


your flowers just died (plant new seeds in the melody)

by loveroflou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Age Regression, Angst, Asexual Harry, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Little Harry, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Harry Styles/Original Male Character(s), all of it is only implied, and refers to himself with third person, anyway, don't turn any of this into a kink thing or i'll eat you alive, harry calls louis daddy for comfort, the bad stuff happens in the past between h/omc, tiny mention of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28341852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveroflou/pseuds/loveroflou
Summary: “Harry was not bad?” he checks, voice small and letters clumsily stuck together.Louis nods.“And daddy – you’re not mad?”He nods again.“You still love Harry?”“Yeah, baby boy,” Louis breathes, nudging their noses together. He’s comforting Harry, but he’s also comforting himself. “Alwayslove you. Love you so, so much, y’know that?”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 122





	your flowers just died (plant new seeds in the melody)

**Author's Note:**

> hello again i have another disaster-drabble thing
> 
> i haven't written nsx age play/regression in a million years so this is kind of messy. the implied abuse/sexual abuse tags are there because better be safe than sorry but actually this is all fluff. i think. the blood tag is because harry breaks a vase and ends up getting cut by accident.
> 
> (cy i know this is nothing like what u asked for sorry about that hope u like it anw love u)

“Sorry, sorry – Zayn, I’m going to have to call you back,” Louis says into the phone before throwing it on the bed and hopping off, not waiting for a reply or bothering to end the call.

He finds Harry in the kitchen. There are fat tears dripping over his flushed cheeks and sticking to the sharp line of his jaw, and he only cries harder when he sees Louis approaching gently. Water and bright pieces of flowers are puddling all around him and squished under his bent legs, but Louis is more focused on the sharp red blood oozing from the back of Harry’s hand and soaking through the white cotton of his shirt.

Harry tries to sit up, startling back into his place when Louis says quickly, much sharper than he intends to, “Stay still.”

“’m sorry,” he sobs, Louis wincing, “sorry – daddy, I didn’t mean to–”

“Hush, sweet boy,” Louis murmurs, stepping carefully to his side and crouching down in front of him. He pushes the curls sticking to Harry’s face with his tears back behind his ear and smiles softly, thumbing at his wobbling bottom lip. “Not mad at you. Can baby show daddy his hand, please?”

Harry blinks down at his bleeding palm, and when he looks back up at Louis there are fresh tears in his eyes, the green glazed over.

“No, no, hush. Don’t cry.” He takes his hand gently, loosening his fingers from where Harry’s clasped them over the cut in a fist. The cut is deep, but not deep enough that it’ll need stitches.

“Hurts, daddy,” Harry says, voice thick with tears. He sniffles. “Don’t like it.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Louis breathes, pressing a kiss to Harry’s forehead and standing up. “I’m not leaving,” he says immediately, watching the panic in Harry’s eyes die down as quickly as it appeared with the reassurance.

The cut is still bleeding.

Louis moves around the kitchen slowly, careful to avoid the small pieces of glass littering the dark tiles of the floor. When he comes back to Harry and presses a clean kitchen towel to his hand, Harry watches it soak with blood for a minute before turning to Louis.

“Daddy?” Louis hums questioningly, pressing Harry’s other hand over the bloodied towel to keep it in place. “Is Harry getting punished?”

It hurts to ask, but Louis knows he has to. He remembers crying the first time Harry asked. He only takes a deep breath, now, before catching Harry’s eyes again. “Do you think you should get punished?”

Harry blinks. “Harry broke the – um, the flower thing,” he says. Like that’s a good enough reason for Louis to punish him. Like he’s confused why Louis’ even asking.

“The vase,” Louis fills in, fixing Harry’s grip on the towel. “Did you break the vase on purpose?”

Shaking his head quickly, Harry says, “No! No, daddy – I, um, was holding it and it slipped.”

Louis nods. He’s figured as much. “Then daddy won’t punish you,” he says gently.

“But I was bad,” Harry says, frowning, his words tilted by the end into a question.

“No,” Louis says. They’ve had this talk before, they’ve had it a _lot_ , but Louis never tires of explaining to him. He’ll tell him how good he is every single day, until Harry’s first thoughts if he does anything at all aren’t flashes from a past Louis doesn’t like to think about because he wasn’t there to protect him, and then every day after that. “It was an accident. Accidents happen, darling. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t bad, not at all.” His voice is soft, syrupy sweet like honey, like he’s talking to a baby.

“Harry was not bad?” he checks, voice small and letters clumsily stuck together.

Louis nods.

“And daddy – you’re not mad?”

He nods again.

“You still love Harry?”

“Yeah, baby boy,” Louis breathes, nudging their noses together. He’s comforting Harry, but he’s also comforting himself. “ _Always_ love you. Love you so, so much, y’know that?”

Harry giggles softly, eyes crinkling and faint traces of dimples pressing into his cheeks. “How much?” he asks through his laughter, pushing closer to Louis.

“More than – this much,” he says, opening his arms wide.

Harry opens his own arms. “I love you more, see! All this much.” The kitchen towel is fully soaked with blood, and it plops from his hand to the floor, the water rippling gently by Harry’s legs when it hits it. “Oops,” he whispers quietly, grinning shyly when Louis laughs.

“I still love you more,” Louis says, “but c’mon, up, stand up, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Harry nods, standing up and grimacing. The backs of his naked thighs and his socks are wet, and he wiggles uncomfortably when Louis carries him up, tucking his face in Louis’ neck.

Louis walks him out the kitchen and to the bathroom in their master bedroom, sitting him on the closed toilet seat. “Show me,” he tells Harry after helping him out of his bloodied shirt and grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet, and Harry frowns.

“Will you – are you going to put the, um, the thing that hurts?” he asks, keeping his hand close to his chest instead of presenting it to Louis. He looks so young like this, and Louis’ chest feels tight.

Louis shakes his head. “No,” he promises. “Now show me, please.”

Harry visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping. He lets Louis take his hand, and when he runs warm water over the cut he doesn’t cry. Only tears up a bit, but it’s okay, because daddy tells him he’s a good boy and doing so well.

True to his word, Louis only pulls Harry’s hand from under the water when it’s all cleaned up and wraps it up with gauze.

“Better?” he asks softly, wiping under Harry’s eyes with his thumbs and kissing the crown of his head when Harry nods. “Okay, can you get in the tub, baby? I know,” he says when Harry starts to say that he’s already taken a bubble bath in the morning, “just want to wash your legs and tummy real quick, won’t take a minute.”

“Okay, daddy,” Harry agrees, nodding like that makes sense. Louis helps him out of his panties and socks and into the bathtub, and in less than five minutes he’s cleaned him up and is wrapping him in the fluffiest towel he can find.

Harry waits silently on the bed as Louis ruffles through his closet, eyes wide like he’s trying to make out what clothes he’s picking out.

“Unicorn sweater okay?” Louis asks without turning around, and when Harry hums crouches down to pick out clean panties and a pair of socks. “Pants on or off?”

“Off,” he says shyly, smiling when Louis turns to him, his blue eyes fond.

The unicorn-print sweater slips just past his bum and swallows his hands, only his lemonade pink painted fingernails poking out. His panties are plain white like his socks, with a pink bow sewed to their middle, and Harry grins when Louis kisses over his bellybutton after helping him into them.

He kisses his cold toes too, sweet, messy kisses all over the delicate varnish and pruney skin until Harry’s a giggling mess, keeps wiggling his toes like it’ll make Louis stop.

“Daddy,” he gasps through his laughter, can feel Louis’ smile against his toes. “Stop, it tickles!”

Louis laughs, kissing every inch of skin as he slides the socks up Harry’s feet slowly, and then kissing up his legs and all over his thighs. He pauses when he reaches midway up Harry’s thighs and starts again from his tummy, feeling Harry’s relieved exhale from where he’s pressed his lips.

Sloppily, Louis kisses all over his chest and up his neck to his face, and maybe he’s kissing apologies into him, one little apology with every little kiss, apologising for anything and everything. The fire in his belly licks up, angry, but Louis keeps his touch gentle, _always_ touches Harry gently.

He’s been touched ungently far too many times for Louis’ touch to be anything but gentle.

“Love you, daddy,” Harry breathes when Louis kisses his lips.

Louis is so in love with him he wants to curl around him and cry, right now.

Harry’s sitting on the kitchen counter as Louis cleans the floor, a glass of strawberry milk in his hand. He takes slow sips, pausing after every few sips to eat from the raisin cookies Louis’ set in a plate next to him.

He’s rubbing at his eyes sleepily when Louis is done and the floor is squeaky clean, no trace of the flowers or broken vase anywhere. The glass of milk is empty and there’s a mouthful of cookie in his mouth that he’s barely munching on.

Louis’ lips tug up in a soft smile. “Nap time, angel?” he says quietly, helping Harry wrap his legs around his waist when he nods and carrying him back to their bedroom.

“Daddy,” Harry mumbles against Louis’ golden skin, and Louis hums, kissing his hair before depositing him gently on the bed. “C’n we buy more flowers in the morning?”

“’Course, doll,” Louis says, climbing in behind him and pulling him to his chest. “But sleep first.”

He nods, a barely there movement of his head and cuddles closer. Louis doesn’t have to wait long before Harry says, “Sing?”

It’s either listening to Louis singing or reading him a bedtime story that always lulls him to sleep. Harry’s told him it makes him feel safe enough to let go and slip into sleep, and Louis never asked any questions.

He takes whatever little pieces of the story Harry feels safe enough to give him, never pushes for more.

His voice is low and raspy as he sings soft-spoken words against Harry’s milky white skin, feeling him relax and push even closer to Louis. Harry’s eyebrows quirk in a frown when Louis shuffles a little, but Louis doesn’t stop singing so Harry doesn’t open his eyes.

When Louis gently pushes his pacifier between his lips his face smooths over, and Louis thinks if it didn’t interrupt his suckling he would be smiling.

“Kissy, daddy,” Harry slurs, more than half asleep, his words muffled with the silicone in his mouth.

Louis obliges happily, pressing a soft kiss over the pacifier, and this time Harry does smile. He thinks they’ll be okay as long as Harry keeps smiling. “Sweet dreams, little love.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://loveroflou.tumblr.com)


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